


The Dew in Her Hair

by baixue88



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Love at First Sight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:45:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baixue88/pseuds/baixue88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story of Elrond and Celebrian</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dew in Her Hair

Lindir was up on the balcony with his lord when Lady Galadriel and her family rode through the gates followed by a resplendant host. In front was Galadriel herself, clad all in silver-green and glittering like a star. To her right was her quiet but dignified husband Celeborn, and to her left was a girl Lindir had never seen before. Her face was light and merry and her eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement as she looked all about. He could see her talking with animation to Galadriel, though he could not hear a word from this distance.

That must be Celebrian, he realized, and said so to his lord standing beside him. Elrond did not respond. When Lindir turned to look at him, he had the queerest look on his face, almost as if he'd been slapped across the face in his own house and could not quite believe it.

“Lord Elrond?”

The Lord of Imladris shook himself as if out of a dream. “Yes. We had better go down and greet them.”

–

“How do you find Imladris?” Galadriel asked her daughter that night as they made ready for bed.

“Oh, it's wonderful! The sound of the river down in the valley – I can't wait to explore tomorrow!”

Galadriel smiled faintly and ran a brush through Celebrian's golden locks. “Perhaps if you asked Lord Elrond, he might show you himself.”

“Oh, I don't know. He seemed so serious when we met him.”

“He has many reasons to be serious.”

“Yes, but did you see him when we were introduced? He barely so much as glanced at me! As if I were invisible! I'm not certain that he'd want to spend more time with me than necessary.”

Galadriel smiled more, but only replied that she wasn't sure of that. She kissed her daughter's head, told her goodnight, and went away to bed.

–

Elrond always savored his morning walks. They helped him clear his head, and gave him a chance to contemplate the day's beauty before getting into the everyday nitty-gritty work of running Rivendell. Every morning he awoke at dawn and dressed himself before descending alone into the heart of the valley, long before any others were awake and the dew had dried from the tree-leafs.

This morning he strode quickly down the path to the cleave of the valley, trying to put as much distance between himself and the Homely House as possible. Last night had been torturous: he had sat at supper and tried to make conversation with Celeborn and Galadriel, but his tongue had seemed to muddle and trip over itself and he could hardly focus on what they were telling him. The strain of attempting not to stare at their daughter right in front of them had been nearly unbearable. Normally he loved dinner guests, and he could talk with them for hours, long after the food was cleared for the table. Last night, however, he could not wait to get away, and leaving the room had come with no small amount of relief. He'd felt her eyes on him the entire time, as if daring him to look, daring him to meet her gaze. He'd tried his best to ignore it.

This morning he was still trying hard to ignore it, but he was having very little luck. The birds chirping from the drooping boughs surrounding Bruinen could usually set his mind to ease, but now they only seemed to make him more agitated.

He was nearing the banks of Bruinen, trying to calm himself with the sound of the burbling stream, when he heard the singing. His heart near came to a halt and for a moment he stood stock still. It was coming from the river, as gay and birdlike as a flute, but he couldn't see who was singing through the dense thicket.

Trying as hard as he could not to make any noise on the pebbly path, Elrond moved forward toward a break in the trees. The river was at its most shallow here, moving slow and crystal clear over a bed of smooth stones.

It was in that stream she stood, her skirts tucked up about her creamy thighs to keep from getting wet, her golden tresses loose about her shoulders. Dew-drops crowned her head like a diadem of stars. Tiny fish were darting about her toes like bolts of silver and the singing! Her voice was a dove and her eyes were closed, her face upturned to catch the rays of the sun on her pink cheeks.

Elrond could only stand and watch, his every limb trembling.

Finally, when he thought the agony was too great, she opened her eyes, all blue-gray like a stormy morning, and she looked at him.

“Oh!” she cried, and her cheeks lit up red. “Lord Elrond! I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone else would be awake at this hour!” She splashed to the shore and quickly let her skirts down, smoothing them out hurriedly.

“Quite alright.” His voice came out in a croak. “Many love to wade in this part of the river.”

“Well,” she mumbled, pushing her hair back into a sloppy braid, “I did not mean to make myself indecent.”

“There was no indecency. You were enjoying yourself.”

“Thank you. But please, don't tell my parents. I'm sure they'd scold me.”

He couldn't help but smile at that. “You have my word.”

“Well, then!” She smiled gratefully up at him and looped one arm through his. He almost stopped breathing. “Now that you are speaking to me, my Lord, would you escort me back up to the House?”

He thought he'd ascended to the stars.

–

Elrond and his men were gone to war, and Celebrian was left alone with the other elves taking refuge in Imladris. The stream still babbled happily, as if it had no idea that anything had changed.

She tried to keep her mind off things, to walk about the House and down into the valley, but all of it spoke of the missing Master of the House, from the silent library to the noisy kitchens to the trees whispering in the wind.

He was gone, fighting a force that threatened to swallow them all whole, and in those moments she began to realize she missed him.

–

He stood on the battlefield, sulfur in his nostrils, and braced himself as the wave of orcs descended the hills of Mordor towards them. He could not count their numbers; it was all screaming and yammering jaws and claws and death raining downward.

He thought of her feet in the water, the dew in her hair.

–

She had been watching for days, but finally she saw the banners descending into the valley. Celebrian ran out, bare-footed and bare-headed, to meet them. Stray branches and stones on the road cut her feet, but she cared little. She had to see.

And there he was, alive and un-maimed. Her heart burst with relief. As soon as his eyes landed on her, he halted the company and jumped from his horse. She did not wait for him to call to her; she ran forward and threw herself into his arms. He reeked of sweat and brimstone and blood, and the Mordor soot covering his armor and face rubbed off on her white dress.

“I thought you were dead,” she whispered into the crook of his neck.

“Me too.”

Finally she managed to break the embrace and looked up into his face, so worn and creased with weariness, dirt caked into the lines on his face. But he was alive. He was alive, and he was home.

Elrond took her hands in his. His nails were lined with filth and blood and his palms were stained black.

“Marry me,” he said. “Marry me today. Now.”

For a moment, she thought he was joking, that he had gone mad or frantic from fear. But she looked in his eyes, and she saw the agony of Mordor-battle reflected there, and she understood.

“Yes,” she agreed.  “Today.  Now.”


End file.
